


心の出会い

by madly_extravagantly_absurdly



Category: Corpse Party (Video Game)
Genre: 'forget about her; you have me now', Ayumi Shinozaki vaguely mentioned, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Crazy boyfriends, Descent into Madness, Devotion, Insanity, Kurosaki Kensuke but he's dead, M/M, Mentioned Suzumoto Mayu, Murder, both of them are mad, come and get your edge, corpse selfie!, fuck yuka, heavy breathing, kizami is written more sexily in this one, manipulation sorta, masa works design, songfic?, this is fucked up but like. softly, vaguely necrophilic; you know what our boy shig is like, yuka doesn't exist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2020-10-05 21:17:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20495468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madly_extravagantly_absurdly/pseuds/madly_extravagantly_absurdly
Summary: 「welcome to this scarlet world.」two pieces cut of the same cloth come back together as one.eta: took down the 3rd chapter. not explaining why anymore. i think i'm going to rewrite this whole thing, but i'm leaving it up for comparison unless i decide it sucks too hard.





	1. 「友達」

**Author's Note:**

> The title - 'kokoro no deai' - means 'meeting of the minds', the title of extra chapter 2, but it can also be read as 'encounter of the heart' or something along those lines. 
> 
> This work contains lyrics from Masa's 'The Secret Box', which if you haven't listened to, you definitely should! It gives me vibes for these two, and it was what inspired this work in the first place. The work is split into 3 to reflect the fact the Secret Series is also split into 3 (which was unintentional but I thought it was cool either way!) even although the lyrics in each chapter are all from the same song.
> 
> No unsolicited constructive criticism please, I'll cry, but if you find any typos or punctuation errors or techincal stuff like that, please feel free to point them out! I write in all lowercase in drafts, so it means I have to go back and correct it. Comments are VERY APPRECIATED! 🥺🥺

_『 you’re so charming; who are you? you asked me to become your friend. 』_

“I had a feeling we might be cut from the same cloth.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’d appreciate it if you’d please just leave me be.”

“Let’s meet again sometime, eh? Sometime real soon…”

*

‘Sometime real soon?’  
  
The infirmary’s silence seemed altogether less oppressive than anywhere else. Morishige, sprawled on his back, clutched the phone to his chest; what right did a stranger have to look at it? His skin crawled with the indecency of it.  
  
The once clean infirmary beds certainly hadn’t stayed that way for long; the scent of blood hung threateningly in the air, having come in with the boy on the bed. His uniform, his hands and wrists, even a little splatter on his face from the excitement - all marked scarlet by that sticky mess in the hall.  
  
Oh, the thought of it made him shiver; turning to face the wall, a stifled laugh even escaped his lips. How terribly ugly this place was - Morishige couldn’t help but revel in it. When in Rome, after all. He had almost forgotten about the stranger that had laid eyes on his treasured photographs. Euphoria fastened him here, his breathing awfully laboured - this feeling, this delirium, was nothing like he had ever experienced before.  
  
He simply had to have another look. He flipped open his phone with shaking hands, and there it was, looking at him once more. morishige clutched himself, giggling madly at the disgusting sight. How could this ever have been a person? It looked like nothing more than rotten meat that someone had discarded ever so carelessly. Shame had completely melted away from him - of course, he had felt some pang of reluctance, a momentary panic, even, when Mochida had passed by earlier, but that simpleton seemed endlessly willing to ignore the notion that his beloved classmates might be in any way corrupt.  
  
_What an idiot._  
  
He lay there trembling, overexcited, but burning out, and eventually, his mind wandered back to the stranger. A bitter expression mangled his features for a moment - what could he possibly understand? He almost wanted, now, to hunt him down and question him; but even in a mind so shot and addled with pleasure, did Morishige know that more exploration was dangerous.  
  
But he needn’t even explore.  
  
“What are you doing in here, hm? Wouldn’t you rather be out there, looking at that?” There was a sick smile facing him when Morishige opened his eyes again. Damnit, did he always have to be caught out like this?  
  
“Were you looking for me?” he stuffed the mobile in his pocket, although there was little point – the one in front of him had already seen what was on it, after all.  
  
“Does it matter?” Kizami was smirking. the longer he spent in this place, the more common such an expression had become.  
  
“I suppose not, no.” It had taken the bespectacled boy long enough to notice that the other was soaked with blood in a similar way to him, and as his gaze dipped below Kizami’s own to take in the stain, a mockery of a laugh escaped the taller boy’s lips. Morishige was entranced by the red; it looked fresh, too. Fresher than his own.

“Allow me to confess. I murdered someone… who considered me his best friend.” He didn’t seem very sorry at all. The words he spoke wanted ever-so desperately to convey such a message, but the pleased, breathy tone of Kizami’s voice betrayed it in the utmost. “It was wonderful…”  
  
“… Ah, so— that’s what you meant…”  
  
Morishige spoke absently; he couldn’t help but wonder, no matter how twisted it may be, just how Kizami might have killed him, and what kind of mess he had made of him. But as much as he enjoyed the sight of death, as much as of a rush as the sight of new blood gave him, he wasn’t a murderer – and this one was.

“Then you’re wrong… I’m no murderer. I’m still sane.”  
  
“Moments ago, I heard you laughing. Did someone perhaps tell you a joke?” Kizami’s sarcasm cut through him, and Morishige narrowed his eyes as he finally tore his gaze away from the other's bloodied body.  
  
Kizami could see it in his eyes, almost. He knew of the abnormal curiosity that would be breeding within Morishige; ever since he had mentioned Kurosaki, he had seemed all the more pliant despite his protests. Another warped smile came to his lips, and he extended his hand, taking a step out from the bed. His struggle in reading people had disappeared – this one was an open book. Everything was written on his face; the warmth in his cheeks, and the sickly fascinated look in his eyes. It was obvious.  
  
“If you come with me, I’ll show you.”  
  
There was another twist of indignity in Morishige’s face, but nonetheless he accepted the hand that had been offered to him. The way their sticky flesh slid together sent a pleasantly nasty shiver through his body; he had tarnished himself with the blood of the already dead, but Kizami - he had killed for it. He wondered what that was like himself for a moment; although it mattered not how much he wished to coerce his thoughts, he refused to entertain the idea.  
  
“Why did you kill him?” Morishige asked the question once they were walking; it had taken him sufficiently long enough to recover from the sight of so much blood on someone else.  
  
“It didn’t matter whether I killed him, or whether this school did. I figured I ought to put poor Kurosaki out of his misery myself.”  
  
Silence fell upon Morishige again, as uncertainty about the truth of that statement burned within him; although, oddly, he found he truly didn’t care – he supposed in the right light, killing this boy himself was the merciful thing to do.  
  
“Would you be able to take it if you found him dead at the hands of this school?”  
  
A dark chuckle came from his companion, then a thoughtful sound; the expression on his face was almost serene, stoic, and the question had certainly delighted him. “Perhaps not.”  
  
Morishige’s breath hitched in his throat and he didn’t have a chance to reply; they had reached the extravagantly desecrated corpse.  
  
His favourite.  
  
It was exactly how he had left it before, and still as thrillingly filthy; that revolting metallic smell had taken over the entire corridor. Looking at it made him giddy, and the glint of madness in his eyes had returned; not once did he look at Kizami, as he crouched down, and captured several more pictures of it. “How horrid this place is… truly terrible…” Morishige muttered, almost in a sing-song, between fevered breaths.  
  
He found a hand on his shoulder before long, and straightened up to face Kizami, whose wicked smile mirrored his own. “I hate to tear you away from your treasure, but there’s more to come.”  
  
“Of course, of course…! You don’t mind… if I—‘  
  
“Certainly not.”  
  
Lunatic laughter was all Kizami received in reply; he found there was something strangely endearing about Morishige’s madness. It was untainted by hate. He derived pure enjoyment from these corpses – maybe it was even pleasure, it was hard to tell. Either way, it was fascinating. His reaction to what remained of Kurosaki would no doubt be just as enthralled. The bespectacled boy’s excitement was almost infectious.  
  
Kurosaki was even failing to help in death, but perhaps finally he could be of some use.


	2. 「綺麗」

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's slightly more intense gore here! No actual murder, just Morishige being himself.

_『 is it alright to be in pieces? _ _it's beautiful, don't you think? 』_

It was strange to see him again.

All of his grand emotional notions were gone; there was nothing inside Kizami as he looked upon the badly defiled corpse now. The same could certainly not be said for his new friend. The glimmer in the bespectacled boy’s eye caught Kizami’s attention even before he had noticed it himself. They had barely entered the room where Kurosaki’s life had ended and Morishige’s heart was already ringing in his ears, all his effort poured into not getting too terribly excited. He was brimming with emotion, ready to overflow again; it seemed that the reminder his clothes were bathed in no longer took any effect. A smile twitched its way guiltily on to his face as he peered downwards. He was ready to falter at any moment; Kizami could see that much. The way he nervously wrung his hands, his wide eyes; all of them were much too telling.

“Did you do this?” asked Morishige, a shrilling lilt in his voice. He couldn’t take his eyes off Kurosaki’s entrails, not even for one moment.

“Yes.”

The affirmation caused a strange break in Morishige, and he managed to finally peel away his gaze. “I’m stood next to a murderer...” His voice was contemplative, calm even. It was not the way he had spoken to Kizami earlier. Oh, how he had so thoroughly hated him earlier. It tinged his feelings now - he was only standing here because of Kizami’s persistent intrusion. But what a _mess_ he had made. “It is as if he could be alive, isn’t it? If you were to shield your eyes just right, it would look as if he were simply asleep...! But... look further... and there everything is...! Spilling out - isn’t it such a wonder that all of this fits inside, just here?” Morishige gestured to his own body, hand trembling.

For one insane moment he wondered what it would be like to allow Kizami to butcher him. If he could live, he would have allowed him to in a heartbeat.

Laughter erupted from him against his will, although he tried his best to control himself; he could feel Kizami’s eyes on him, and he turned to face him once again. There was no life in those grey eyes of his, and the more he looked, the more entranced he became. “I want you to... tell me,” he faltered, sinking down to be closer to the hole where the corpse lay. Kizami watched him take a deep breath of that revoltingly fresh scent of death, and watched the wanton shudder claim his body for just a moment. It was like watching a dog who had been handed a bone.

“Haven’t I told you already?”

“You were lying to me, Kizami... don’t take me for a fool! You ripped him to pieces... why did you really kill him?” Morishige sounded more than mad; his breathing was laboured as if he was gripped by panic, but the wide smile on his face told Kizami otherwise. “Come on, now... if we’re really cut from the same cloth!”

A deep, dangerous sigh escaped Kizami’s lips; he narrowed his eyes, and kneeled to be face to face with Morishige. He got so close he could feel the heat of his rapid breathing. “It didn’t matter what happened to Kurosaki. I thought I ought to be there when he died... I wanted to see what he was really hiding. Dying is a perfect time to confess, no?”

Morishige seemed eager to listen, and had gone silent; he was clutching himself, eyes wider than ever. “Oh, he screamed, and he cursed me; he even managed to land a hit.” Kizami gestured to a faint blue mark on his cheek, a developing bruise. He found himself whispering. “He called me a fucking coward... but then, little Kurosaki confessed his love for me.”

A sudden, disturbed laugh broke the silence. “Fascinating... Ah, how much more entertaining than killing him out of the kindness of your heart...!” Morishige felt giddy. Oh, how tragic!

He reached down and touched Kurosaki’s intestines; digging his hands in as if he were playing in something as innocuous as snow, he lifted them in strings as if to inspect them. The slimy sensation against his hands only made him feel more lightheaded, liquid dripping all over his clothing. Kizami watched him with a growing sick fascination. He had insisted ever so strongly that he was sane earlier, and yet, here he was - covering himself in Kurosaki’s blood. However, he saw that Morishige’s body wasn’t exactly immune - he seemed to be retching somewhere, flinching every time the cold entrails slipped out of his hands and on to the floor with a splat. “Aren’t you disgusting,” Kizami commented under his breath, his tone laden with amusement.

He chuckled darkly when he witnessed Morishige finally do what he had come here to do; the noise of the shutter wasn’t even enough to wake him from this stupor anymore. In a way, this was his own making; he had allowed this selfish indulgence, encouraged it.

His hands were so bloody it was a surprise the phone didn’t slip out of them.

It was an eternity before Morishige seemed to lose interest in feeling Kurosaki’s gradually congealing insides. Instead, he began flipping through the pictures on his phone, mania overtaking him. But one click too far was enough to snap him back to his reality for even just a moment.

_Mayu._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter might be spicier bc i'm starting to put together a plot that ACTUALLY makes even vague sense. the lyrics i intend to use for the next chapter are already set too. ^^
> 
> edit/update: so i found out what the ACTUAL continuation of their meeting is and let me just say thanks! i hate it. ofc i already knew what happened between them (i.e. kizami convincing shig to commit not alive), but i didn't know it happened like that. mark me down as super pissed.


End file.
